Slow Burn Part 44

"I want you. Just you," I say emphatically. Then I take a deep breath. "Make love to me."

"Juliet..."

"No." I quickly shake my head before Dean can protest. "I know what you're going to say, but you're wrong. I'm ready. I don't just want to-I need to. Please."

He gives me a brief searching look before he nods once. "I'm not going to ask you if you're sure." He pushes off the bed, taking me with him. "But not here."

I cling to Dean like a monkey as he walks over to the steps, then slide off of him to go below. Excitement and nerves have my legs wobbling so bad, I'm afraid I'll do a face plant down the steps. This is really happening!

Dean takes my hand and leads me to the cabin. He senses my apprehension, and cups my face with both hands, just kissing me until every part of my body is warm and liquid with desire. When I wrap my arms around the back of his neck, he picks me up and places me on the bed.

I lie there, watching as he removes the last article of clothing from me. He takes a foil packet out of his back pocket before he takes off the rest of his clothes.

This is the first time I've been completely naked in front of him. I take a deep breath. I'm so ready for this. Dean moves, bracing himself over me so that his face is inches from mine.

"I love you," he says simply.

My breath hitches. "I love you." Then I laugh, because it's so easy to say.

His answering smile is pure s.e.x. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly begins to enter me.

It hurts at first...then it doesn't. Dean is so careful with me, letting my body adjust to his. His tensed muscles gleam with a sheen of sweat as he holds himself back. G.o.d, he is so beautiful everywhere. At some point, I stop thinking about the pain, and start to lose myself in the waves of sensation-until my whole being is focused entirely on this momentous thing that's about to happen. I hold on tight to him, and let myself be carried away.

I would have been content to sleep in Dean's arms all night, but he has other ideas. Good G.o.d. It's not that it isn't completely amazing-I just want to be able to walk the next day. On the other hand, I don't think a girl has ever told Dean Youngblood no. Turns out, there's a very good reason for that. Ahem.

He gets me up at what feels like the crack of dawn. I fall asleep under the shower while he brushes his teeth. Hm, I'm not usually awake when Dean leaves my house in the morning. Getting ready together feels like such a couple thing to do. I think I could get used to this.

"You look tired," Dean says with a s.e.xy little smirk when I step out of the shower.

I wrap a towel around myself before I give him a sarcastic look. "That's because my s.e.x-crazed boyfriend woke me up several times last night."

He just chuckles, low and dark, as I saunter into the room for my clothes.

Captain Dan and Finley are back, and have breakfast waiting for us on the deck. I shamelessly eat everything put in front of me. I'm still munching on a couple of bacon strips when Dean goes over to talk to Captain Dan. I wonder if he'll notice if I take some bacon from his plate?

Finley sits next to me as I'm stealthily reaching a hand over. I startle and s.n.a.t.c.h my hand back, looking guilty.

"Hungry this morning, huh?" he says with a knowing look that makes me scoot a couple of inches away from him.

"Must be the ocean air," I say, forcing a polite smile to my face. This guy gives me the creeps.

Finley slowly runs his hands through his hair as his grin grows wider. "Or something else." He leans an elbow on the table, turning his body to me. "I just have to ask-how do you guys do it without him hurting you? Because you're, like, so tiny. And he's...well, he's a big guy."

I gape at him in disbelief, shocked that he would dare to me ask me such a question. "Excuse me?"

"Hey, relax." The creep goes to pat my shoulder, but I jerk away from his touch. "I was just curious, you know?"

"Really?" I drop the bacon fisted in my hand, and glare at him. "Are we asking inappropriate questions now? Why are you dating a dude old enough to be your dad?"

Finley crosses his arms and smirks. "He buys me alcohol and s.h.i.+t. Your turn. How does Dean not break you?"

I stare at him, totally creeped out. "Go away."

His laugh makes me want to buy a degreaser and pour it all over his head. I watch him slink away, then I glance over at Dean. He's still talking to the alcohol-buying Captain Dan, but he's looking my way with a concerned expression. I give him a little wave so he doesn't worry. I think I'll just keep that totally inappropriate conversation to myself, since I don't know how Dean will react. He's not as cold and controlled as I once thought he was.

Dean drops me off at Tamara's. I make sure to thank him for yesterday with a very thorough kiss. He responds by hauling me onto his lap. Once again, my back hits the steering wheel-but I barely notice this time.

"What are you going to do today?" I ask, self-consciously pulling away after a couple of minutes of intense kissing.

Dean gives a little shrug. "Work out some. I'll probably head to L.A. for some car parts I need. What time will you be back from your dad's?"

"Um, maybe around four or five?" I estimate. "Do you want to go over to Mack's when I get back?"

He rests his forearms on the steering wheel, and gives me a sideways glance. "Not really. Come over to my house after."

My heartbeat speeds up at his intent look. "Why?" I ask teasingly. "Last night wasn't enough?"

Dean's grin is slow and mind-blowingly s.e.xy. "I'll never get enough of you."

Both blus.h.i.+ng and laughing, I reach in the back to grab my bag, and open the door, preparing to slide out.

"Hey," he says softly. I stop to look at him questioningly. "Do you regret it?"

I pause for a second before giving him a shy smile. "Not at all. Do you?"

His gaze is suddenly solemn. "The only thing I regret is having to watch you walk away from me right now."

Oh, wow. Must not jump Dean in Tamara's driveway. Okay...I need to go...

Taking a steadying breath, I place one reluctant foot out of the car. "Text me later?"

"Count on it."

G.o.d. Just look at him. How the h.e.l.l am I suppose to walk away from that?

I am in so much trouble.

Chapter 47.

"I didn't drop it on the floor! If I had dropped it on the floor, I wouldn't be eating it."

I'm not sure why Mich.e.l.le is accusing me of eating a dirty pot sticker right now-but I didn't! I point my chopsticks at her and wave them around for emphasis.

She shrugs at me. "Whatever, dude. I saw you drop one, and when you sat back up after you got it, you mouth was full of something."

I glare at her across the table. "I dropped my phone! I was already eating a pot sticker when I dropped it. Why are we even arguing about this?"

Mich.e.l.le laughs, tucking a stray lock of hair behind an ear. "I don't know. It's funny to see you get all riled up. "Can I have the last Rangoon?"

Normally we fight for the last crab Rangoon at Lotus Garden, but not when Mich.e.l.le's lost so much weight that she's drowning in her pretty blue dress. She looks like a clothes hanger. I don't tell her that, of course-or how worried I am about her. I'm just glad I convinced her to have a late lunch with me today.

"You can have the last one if I can have a bite of your sesame chicken," I bargain, trying not to look concerned. "And not just the weird chewy parts you don't like."

"Hm. Deal." Mich.e.l.le expertly uses her chopsticks to put the Rangoon on her plate. "So who are you expecting to hear from? You've been checking your phone, like, every minute."

I automatically look down at my phone. "Nothing," I deny quickly. "I mean no one."

She narrows her eyes at me, studying me suspiciously. "You look happy. Really happy. What's going on with you?"

For some reason, I don't want to tell her about Dean. I'm not sure why. Maybe because once I start talking about him, I'll gush, and be so sickeningly gooey and ecstatic-and...I don't know. I can't help but feel awkward and guilty for being so happy. I hate that I can't act normally around her. I just don't know what to say.

"I'm not happy," I scoff, poking at the food on my plate. "I mean, I'm not happier than normal. I'm-I missed you."

Mich.e.l.le's face softens. She reaches over to pat my hand. "I know, sweet stuff. I've missed you, too. I know I haven't been very reachable lately. I just...I'm trying to get it together, you know?"

"Hey, don't apologize," I say quickly. "I totally understand. Whatever you need, I'm here for you. You know that, right?"

"Of course." She gives me a watery smile. "And, hey, I never got to say thank you for that Heaven book you sent me-it really helped. And the little angel you made-it's so beautiful. I have it on my desk at work."

"I'm glad you liked it," I say, relieved. "I was hoping it didn't make you sad."

"No, no." Mich.e.l.le looks at the food on her plate like it's something that wants to bite her. She's silent for a minute as she contemplates her fried rice. "I have to tell you something," she says, looking up.

My skin instantly chills at the serious look on her face. "What?"

"Derek and I have decided to...we're getting a divorce."

I thought I had been braced for anything, but this...I am in total shock. "A divorce? Why?"

My aunt sighs, but doesn't look up. "For a lot of reasons. We've both thought a lot about this, okay? It's not just an impulsive decision."

"But you guys belong together." I shake my head disbelievingly. "You need each other. Especially now."

Mich.e.l.le's face suddenly twists in anger. "What I need is a husband who will grieve with me, and talk to me about our daughter. Not someone who wants to forget what happened, and pretend like she never existed!"

My eyes widen at the venom in her voice. "Um...maybe it's just too painful for him to talk about right now," I say tentatively, not wanting to p.i.s.s her off.

"Well, I need to talk about her. I'm the one that carried her. I..." Mich.e.l.le turns away, shaking her head. "Any time something bad happens, Derek-he just closes down. He wants to pretend like it never happened, and he gets mad when I bring it up. He wants to-erase every trace of her from our lives. I can't..."

"Oh, Mich.e.l.le." I am so incredibly sad for her. "Did you try counseling, or something?"

She scowls. "He won't do it, and I don't want to go without him."

"Well, what about, like, support groups? They have them online, even, so maybe it wouldn't..."

I trail off as Mich.e.l.le continues to shake her head. "We've already decided this, honey. To be honest, I can't even stand to be in the same room with him now. It's just too hard."

I really don't know what to say after that. I still can't believe it. I can't even imagine those two not being together. Uncle Derek...am I even going to see him again? I just don't understand-they've been through so much already, and they seemed to be such a solid couple. This is a huge mistake, and I have to bite my lip to not say anything to Mich.e.l.le. They need each other now more than ever. How can they not see that?

Things go from bad to worse. I wake up from my nap to (urk!) s.e.x sounds coming from my dad's room. I never ever want to hear my father's name being screamed like that-ever again, but I don't think I'll be able to control the nightmares that are sure to follow. Oh, my G.o.d.

I haven't heard from Dean all day. I leave him a couple of messages on the drive back home, but I don't get a response. I check my phone obsessively, but manage to refrain from calling or texting him again. He's probably working out, or working on his car, maybe. I'm not worried, I just want to hear his voice.

Right.

I text Mack to let him know I can't make it to his house, and then I casually ask him if he's heard from Dean. Mack texts me back, saying he hasn't seen Dean all day, but some s.h.i.+t went down last night at Larrabee. Of course, I have to know all the details, so I immediately call him. Turns out, Ryan and a bunch of other morons broke into our rival school, and vandalized their gym-and c.r.a.pped in their pool!

"Ew!" I exclaim, grossed out.

"Yeah-those dumba.s.ses. Larrabee called the cops, right, and now the whole team is under investigation." Mack sounds thoroughly disgusted. "No one's talking, but Colton wore his letterman jacket, and someone saw him running away from the school. Dumb a.s.s. We all have to come up with alibis for last night."

"Oh, s.h.i.+t," I say, and accidentally swerve into the other lane.

I've got to talk to Dean! I'm his alibi.

c.r.a.p.

After several unanswered calls and text messages, I drive over to Dean's. He's not there, and neither is Johnny. I call Johnny, but he doesn't pick up. Next, I try Nick, but he hasn't seen Dean all weekend. Now I'm really freaking out. Why won't he call me back? Did I do something to p.i.s.s him off? I wrack my brain, trying to think of different scenarios where Dean wouldn't have access to a phone-and they're all bad. He doesn't show up at my house, either. Needless to say, I don't get any sleep.

I wait for him at his locker before cla.s.s starts, so anxious to see him that I can't stand still. Thank G.o.d I don't have a long wait before I see Dean's head towering above everyone coming down the hall. I sag against his locker in relief.

Then I spot a smirking Kara by his side, and I literally feel my blood pressure rocket up. She sees me, and her smile only gets nastier. In contrast, Dean seems to have been turned to stone. A pit of dread opens up in the vicinity of my stomach.

"Hi," I say cautiously as they approach.

At first, I think he's going to ignore me. He stares past me, at the lockers. When it's apparent I'm not going to move, he gives me a quick glance in acknowledgement. What the h.e.l.l? It's like the past few months never happened.

I take a deep breath, then pointedly meet his eyes. "Can I talk to you?"

Dean exchanges looks with Kara. She is positively gleeful. He nods once, then starts walking away. I determinedly follow him, trying not to look as upset as I feel. What the h.e.l.l is going on? Why is Dean being so distant?

Only one way to find out. We go out the front doors, and around to the side of the building. Usually, this area is littered with students, but since cla.s.s is about to start, there's no one here but us.

"What is going on?!" I blurt out as soon as Dean turns to face me. "Why haven't you called me? I heard about what happened with Larrabee, but...what?"

He's shaking his head, refusing to look directly at me. "I had no intention of calling you," he says to a point above my head. "Or seeing you again."

"What?" I say again, certain I'm not hearing right. A curious tingling begins in my fingertips and toes. "I'm not-what does that mean?"

Finally, Dean looks me in the eye, and the coldness in his expression is like a physical blow. "It means I got what I wanted last night." He speaks slowly, making sure to enunciate every syllable. "I'm done with you."